


Rule Number Five

by nihilleaf



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Boss!Percival Graves, Graves is sexy and he knows it, M/M, Romance, Secretary!Newt Scamander, Sexual Tension, Smitten Newt Scamander, and I don't know what I'm doing with my life, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilleaf/pseuds/nihilleaf
Summary: Newt felt his heart beating in his throat, and he had to restrain himself from squirming on his seat when the man just watched him silently for a long, torturous moment before he lifted one piece of paper from the stack and glanced at it with a slight frown; ink-black eyes dragging swiftly along the printed letters.“So…” The Director finally detached his gaze from the document and clasped his hands together as if he was preparing a sermon. “You’re our new First Secretary, ‘Newton Artemis Scamander’.”





	Rule Number Five

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't expecting to write this, but at the end, I did it antway. :') I got inspired by [this](http://directedbysnyder.tumblr.com/post/170161293873) and [this](http://acarima.tumblr.com/post/170749325084/daddy-coming-%E3%83%BD-%E3%83%8E) gifset that has been floating around on tumblr, and I couldn't help it, I had the urge to write something based on it. This fic might be cliché, but please, bear with me. Who doesn't like to see Colin Farrell in a suit? Ok, I go, I hope you enjoy it! :'D

Newt fiddled for the umpteenth with the straps of his briefcase, his leg bouncing up and down in a nervous rhythm as he reclined in one of the chairs of the waiting room.

The imposing silver logo of _MACUSA – Security and Surveillance_ flanked the pristine wall in front of him, already inviting him to its prestigious company, welcoming him to the world of cameras and security strategies.

A feeling of anticipation mixed with jitteriness made Newt’s heart hammer against his ribcage as he let his eyes trail over the bold letters.

He never would have imagined that one day he’d work for one of the most well-known companies of the continent, an enterprise that was coveted by many countries around the world for its impeccable surveillance technology. Yet here he was, passing the most nerve-wracking tests and motivation interviews, beating countless other applicants who had fought just like him for the position of First appointed Secretary of Macusa.

It still felt like a dream of which Newt didn’t want to wake up, and he would be a liar if he claimed that he wasn’t looking forward to working for Macusa and finally being able to show his skills and need for a challenge.

The smooth swish of a glass door sliding open signaled the presence of someone coming, making Newt perk up with a start. He quickly adjusted his cravat and pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, his heart making a jump as he listened to the clicking sound of high heels approaching the waiting room.

He straightened his back when a woman dressed in a sleek indigo-blue suit entered the room, her pale-blond hair gleaming golden in the early morning sunrays as she turned towards him and offered a polite smile, red lips revealing a row of blinding white teeth.

“Mister Scamander,” she said curtly, her tone warm, yet simmering with calm authority as she reached out to shake Newt’s hand. “Glad to meet you again.”

Newt stood up and took the woman’s offered hand, a shy smile pulling at the corners of his lips as she gave a firm handshake.

“Ma’am,” he greeted, his smile widening when the woman looked at him with a knowing smirk, her dark eyes glinting.

Seraphina Picquery was the spokesperson of the Macusa Company, and also the second-in-charge next to the CEO. Every request concerning projects and other deals went through her before it was passed on to the Director, and she was a big voice in the decision making of many business deals. Newt had heard many hostile echoes of her being a ruthless cold woman who didn’t show pity when it came to rivaling other companies. But upon seeing her for the first time during his job interview, he quickly came to the conclusion that she was just, quick-witted and didn’t lack of humor.

Newt couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept of why most people still regarded successful women having high position in an enterprise with certain suspicion and affront. This revolting fact was something that he would never understand; but if there was one thing of which he was sure, was that he was more than happy to be taken under the wing of the eminent and charismatic Madam Picquery who had been quick to see his potential during his interview.

“You’ve read and signed the contract, I presume? No regrets?” Picquery asked with a raised eyebrow, her cool voice laced with a wisp of teasing amusement, which made the remaining tension in Newt’s shoulders recede a bit.

“O—Oh, no. No regrets. I can’t wait to get started,” Newt laughed sheepishly and gave a nod of his head, a strand of his neatly styled fringe falling above his eye in the process. “I feel honored to be working for Macusa, Ma’am.”

At those words, a ghost of a satisfied smile spread across Mrs. Picquery’s lips, and she answered with a hum, “Well, I hope so. You’re competent. You’ve earned this position, so we count on you to do a good job.”

Newt nodded again and bit his lower lip, his smile growing slightly strained.

Picquery’s words were encouraging and kind, but Newt was perspicacious enough to detect the underlying warning in her tone. ‘ _Don’t make me regret my decision. Work hard, and you’ll be fine._ ’

Before he could ponder further on her words, Mrs. Picquery turned on her heels and walked towards the glass door from which she had just come, prompting Newt to follow her with a curt wave of her hand. As they strode through an enfilade of spacious corridors, Newt couldn’t help but admire the way Picquery held herself while she bypassed a group of business men who were spilling out of one of the numerous conference rooms, chattering and nodding at her in a polite manner.

Her shoulders were squared and her chin held high, an air of confidence emanating from her, which could only instill respect and admiration in any observer who laid eyes upon her regal form.

In a sudden moment of self-consciousness, Newt pulled his hunched shoulders up and willed his legs to walk in a less jerky manner. If he wanted to have a good start in his new post, he had to make sure to make a convenient first impression. An imaginary list instantly floated before his eyes, its blank page filling with the first rule of the day.

_Rule number one_ : put an end to the habit of walking like a gangly deer that didn’t know what was left and right.

Newt was pulled out from his musings when Picquery led him into a wide hall that was filled with a row of cubicles, each one of them equipped with wide-screened computers that blocked the view on its occupants who were typing furiously on their keyboards, not sparing both newcomers a single glance.

“This is where our engineers and computer techs work,” Picquery explained in a matter-of-fact tone while walking towards the next sector. “As you might already know, the labs are on the floor below, and the bodyguards’ training rooms are on the ground floor. You’ve just seen the conference rooms.”

Not waiting for Newt to answer, the Vice Director continued to rattle off many other traits about the gearing of Macusa, not stopping before they finally arrived at a less cramped room that was occupied by two large ebony desks, their smooth surface reflecting the light of the sun shining through impressive panorama windows. 

Each desk had a computer of the latest design, a logo of the Macusa Company floating on their black screens. There was a luminous and soothing atmosphere to the room. The walls were painted in soft shades of beige and chestnut-brown, fitting to the polished wooden floor. Black-and-white photos representing the enterprise throughout its history – and persons who had contributed to its development – were hanging on the spots that weren’t flanked by the man-sized windows, exuding an air of importance and grandeur without seeming over-the-top.

As Newt let his gaze trail over the whole room, taking in the details of its layout, a new kind of reverence and excitement overtook him, making his heart beat in a frenetic rhythm. 

He sensed that _this_ was the place where he would start his new career, and as if on cue, Picquery declared, “Here is where you’ll be working from now on. The main-desk is yours, the other one at the far left is Miss Goldstein’s. She will assist you during your settlement.”

The Vice Director trailed her perfectly manicured fingernails along the surface of Newt’s desk, her eyes watching him with an air of expectation and dainty aloofness.

“Any questions?”

Newt offered her a grateful smile and shook his head, a warm feeling already bubbling in his chest as he glanced at his work station.

“No, Ma’am. Everything’s fine.”

“Brilliant.” Picquery nodded, seemingly pleased with the new First Secretary’s answer and exchanged with him another firm handshake. “Welcome to Macusa, Mister Scamander.”

\---

Newt spent the first weeks familiarizing himself with his new working schedule and the environments of the Macusa Company.

Given that everything was still pretty new, he was obliged to deal with the great amount of information that was thrown at him without giving him the time to take a breath and sort through his jumbled thoughts; and already he had the impression to be overloaded with assignments and reports despite the fact that he had just begun his work.

After another week of settling in, the secretary tried not to panic as a haughty looking man with too much pomade in his slicked-back hair waltzed into the room with a massive stack of papers in his arms and dropped it unceremoniously on Newt’s desk, a derisive sneer pulling at his lips as he drawled in a self-sufficient tone, “I need a résumé of all those papers about the FI9903-2 outdoor cam asap. Be so kind and do this for me, will you?”

Newt couldn’t hide the shock on his face as he stared at the mountain of documents the man had just pushed under his nose. Exhaustion was already pulling at his limbs, the first signs of stress making his palms sweat when he thought about all the unfinished assignments that were due since yesterday. He didn’t know how on earth he was supposed to finish them, and now was definitely not the right time for another report.

He could already feel the tiny part in him that was afraid of confrontations whisper at him in a pleading voice; telling him to just take it like a good obedient employee and shut his mouth. 

A sense of bitterness settled in his gut as his mind was suddenly filled with images of his not so pleasant experience during his previous job. He had been subject to mockery and bullying, and many colleagues had seen in his kind-hearted nature an opportunity to take advantage of him and put him in uncomfortable situations. It was a memory Newt didn’t like to be reminded of, and after therapy, he had sworn to himself to never let such things happen to him ever again.

He was aware that no matter the place of work, the chances were high to be confronted with a person who would try to sour his working experience, and now he had the tools to defend himself. He couldn’t pretend that his past experiences had hardened him, but at least he was sure that he didn’t want to be played with anymore. This was his new job now, and he was determined to transform it into a good and memorable experience.

The mental list floated again into his field of vision, pushing away the dark voice that would sometimes still invade his mind with depressed thoughts.

_Rule number two_ : don’t be afraid to assert your rights. Stand up for yourself.

“Um, excuse me,” Newt replied with a measured tone, trying to ignore the unpleasant twist in his stomach as the man raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing dangerously. “As the First Secretary, I only take assignments from the higher-ups, who are Madam Picquery and the Director. I can make an exception and take a look at your documents, but I’m afraid, it will have to wait since I’m already occupied with other issues of great importance.”

Tense silence settled in the room as the man glared at Newt with an ugly grimace pulling his skin taut, red splotches appearing on his face as he visibly tried to contain his rage at Newt’s daring confrontation.

“I beg to differ, Mister ah—”

“Scamander.”

“ _Scamander_ ,” the man hissed in a mocking tone and planted both hands on Newt’s desk, leaning slightly forward as he glowered at him with an icy look. “If I recall correctly, your job is also to write daily reports concerning the different departments’ works and projects, hence the papers I just gave you. My department is as much of great importance as any other gear of the company. So, I advise you to follow my request, or it will have consequences.”

Newt drew in a deep breath, his fingers shaking under nervous tremors as he balled them into fists under his desk. Every cell in his body screamed for this horrible situation to stop, and he was on the verge of letting the issue drop so he could finally breathe and regain his composure. But stopping now would mean that he was showing defeat and submitting himself under the man’s menace; and God only knew what else this man was capable of throwing at him once he started to let his guard down.

“I’m aware of that, Mister,” Newt replied with a forced tactful tone without hiding the little sharpness in it. “I never said that your department has less value. I’m just saying that in order for me to make a report for the Director, I need to reassemble the records that are meant to be written by the head-chiefs of each department of the company. Which means, that normally, it is _your_ job to make a résumé of _your_ project, which you then send to me; not the other way around.”

At that, the man made a sound that reminded Newt of a choking seal, and if looks could kill, Newt would surely be already dead. 

“How dare you tell me how _I_ should do my job?” the man spat through clenched teeth and pointed a warning finger at him, all traces of his unnervingly exaggerated posh accent blowing into the wind. “You really think you can do whatever you want, huh? Clearly, no one has taught you newbie some respect. Well, wait and see. I’ll wipe that smug look from your face sooner than you think. Mark my words.”

Rendered speechless by the man’s passionate threat, Newt could only blink in confusion and growing unease as the man turned on his heel and left the room with stomping steps, nearly bumping into Newt’s new colleague Tina Goldstein, who made a pained grimace as he pushed past her.

The young woman looked after him with narrowed eyes, before she turned her attention to the still shaken looking secretary and walked up to his desk, a look of worry and sympathy settling over her pale features.

“Okaaay… what did just happen? Is everything alright?” she asked, to which Newt let out a stuttering breath and removed his glasses, slight tremors coursing through his fingers as he rubbed his eyes.

“Everything is fine. I just realized that I have an uncanny talent for making new enemies,” he muttered sarcastically, which earned him a breathless huff.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Newt. This man has always been trouble. He can’t live without instigating pointless drama.” The brunette returned to her desk and started to sort through her papers while sending Newt a comforting smile, little dimples appearing on her cheeks. “Not many people have dared to confront him, because he uses his high position as a tool to make anyone follow his very demand, unless they get in trouble.”

Newt blinked at her, unsure if he should feel threatened or just brush the issue off as a mere caprice of a man who hadn’t gone past the mental age of ten.

“Well, that sounds reassuring,” Newt mumbled under his breath and pushed the glasses back up his nose with a defeated sigh. “Who is this guy anyway?”

Tina snorted.

“Abernathy. He’s the head-engineer in the research department. Unfortunately, you’ll have to see his pretty face quite often in future.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Newt replied with a sardonic huff, unable to suppress a grin that spread across his face when Tina answered with a puff of laughter, her big eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You’re not alone,” she declared good-naturedly, and they both turned back to their works all the while sharing occasional amused glances.

Newt ducked his head as he smiled to himself, observing his colleague from above the rim of his glasses. 

He considered himself lucky to have made acquaintance with Miss Goldstein. During his first day at work, the young woman had patiently guided him through his novel environment, and the usually withdrawn and shy part in him had instantly warmed up to her easygoing and warm nature. Before they even noticed, their first slightly awkward conversations had quickly turned into enthusiastic exchanges filled with laughs and random jokes, which vividly reminded Newt of the past joyful moments he had shared with his family when he used to live in England.

As Newt focused his attention back on his computer and started typing, the unpleasant encounter with the head-engineer quickly faded away from his mind, leaving place to a feeling of timid contentment.

Already, he felt like he belonged to the company; that he was now an important member of its complex macrocosm. 

Newt had finally attained the goal he had worked so hard for, and now he felt that he was ready to show everyone the true extent of his competences.

What could possibly go wrong?

\---

“Newt, the Director wishes to speak to you.”

Newt snapped his head up, nearly straining his neck in the process, and stared at Tina with his mouth slightly agape.

“H—Huh? Why all of a sudden?”

The CEO of Macusa, who went by the name of _Percival Graves_ , was known to be a very busy man. Quite surprisingly, not many people outside of the company had had the chance to see him, although he was often featured in newspapers and had even been voted as the ‘most successful business owner of the year’ by The Economist and other renowned magazines. 

Even the employees working at Macusa rarely saw his face, given the fact that he always went on business trips and attended countless conference meetings that barely left him time to interact with his subordinates, let alone the First Secretary. Since Newt had started his new job at the company, he hadn’t met the Director even once; and truth be told, the redhead didn’t ponder over the faceless man that much, not really curious about knowing what he even looked like.

Now Newt wished he had made a little google search before going to the lion’s den, and judging by the worried and uneasy look on Tina’s ashen face, the man seemed to be a particularly scary lion.

“Why does he want to see me?” Newt asked once more, a queasy feeling settling in his gut as he sent Tina a questioning look.

“Well…” The brunette fiddled with the hem of her button-up shirt, her eyebrows knitting together in a nervous twist, accentuating the worry-lines on her forehead. “I think it has to do with Abernathy. Or maybe, Mister Graves just wants to meet you? Since you haven’t seen each other yet…”

The brunette’s voice trailed off in a lame whisper, clearly showing that even she wasn’t convinced of her last statement.

Feeling his insides twist at once, Newt took a deep breath and willed his racing heart-beat to slow down. Now wasn’t the time to panic. The lead-engineer may have already made sure to put a bad image on him, but Newt still had the right to speak up and refute the false claims. The future of his job wasn’t at stake yet, and he was determined to keep it that way.

“Alright then,” Newt mumbled with feigned confidence and rose from his seat. “Where is his office?”

“Right at the corner of the hallway. You can’t miss it,” Tina replied quietly and gnawed on her lip. “Do you want me to accompany you?”

“Geez, Tina. You sound as if I’m going to get hanged. I’ll be fine.”

Newt masked his nervousness behind a conciliatory smile and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, before he walked out of the room and headed for the Director’s office. When he arrived at the door, he took a few drawn-out breaths, remembering the breathing techniques he had learned during therapy, and nodded jerkily to himself in a semblance of self-motivation.

“Let’s do this,” he whispered finally and gave a few gentle knocks, his heart nearly stuttering when a muffled “Come in.” filtered through the door.

Newt swallowed and cautiously pushed the handle down, taking two tentative steps as he squeezed his body through the gap.

“You requested my presence, Mister Gra—”

The redhead’s words died in his throat as he was met with the most unexpected image he had ever dreamt of seeing.

Like a fly drawn by the light, his gaze was instantly glued to the Director of Macusa, who was sitting behind a wide and sleek desk, one arm casually propped up on an armrest, his head cocking to the side as he acknowledged Newt’s presence, brows arched. 

Nothing seemed amiss to the overall scene the man was giving off, if it wasn’t for the disorienting fact that he looked like a male model that had just jumped out of a fashion magazine or a perfume ad. Newt felt his spine shiver as he let his eyes settle on rich black hair that was smoothed back along the man’s skull, stout eyebrows hovering over dark and smouldering eyes, and a finely cut clean-shaven jaw. 

The secretary desperately tried not to blush as he took in those broad shoulders that filled out the Director’s sky-blue shirt in a downright obscene manner, muscles visibly shifting under the tight fitting fabric as he settled his pen on the stack of papers he was currently signing. Suddenly, Newt wondered if he had been pranked, because _that_ utterly stunning man couldn’t possibly be Director Graves, _the_ famous CEO of the reputed Macusa Company.

Newt considered himself as a forward-looking person, always one step ahead and anticipating multiple outcomes in various situations. But he definitely wasn’t prepared to be confronted to the blinding sight of a literal Adonis who happened to be his bloody boss.

A cough startled him out of his stunned state, and a deep flush spread across his cheeks the moment he realized that the man had surely noticed his not-so-subtle staring. His embarrassment became worse when the Director tossed him a stern look, unblinking obsidian eyes cutting through his skin like knives as they raked over his features with the intensity of a predator that was on the prowl.

With a sudden spark of realization, Newt understood now why Tina had been so anxious about him meeting the CEO. Director Graves clearly seemed to be the kind of man who was aware of his intimidating aura and didn’t hesitate to use this trait in order to instill respect among his employees, which wasn’t really surprising, actually. As a leader of a worldwide known company, it was almost a necessity to be strict and rigorous. The man was literally oozing authority, and this definitely didn’t help Newt’s increasing nervousness.

He nearly gasped when the Director abruptly said, “Please, take a seat.”

The man gestured lazily to a little leather couch in front of his desk in a somewhat condescending manner; but this didn’t stop Newt’s heart from melting into a literal puddle as that rumbling voice rasped across his skin like sand-paper. Never would he have imagined that a simple down-pitched timbre of a voice could affect him so much, yet there he was, barely able to maintain a dignified stance as he stalked stiffly towards the couch and gingerly settled down.

Newt felt his heart beating in his throat, and he had to restrain himself from squirming on his seat when the man just watched him silently for a long, torturous moment before he lifted one piece of paper from the stack and glanced at it with a slight frown; ink-black eyes dragging swiftly along the printed letters.

“So…” The Director finally detached his gaze from the document and clasped his hands together as if he was preparing a sermon. “You’re our new First Secretary, ‘Newton Artemis Scamander’.”

Newt bit his lip and nodded, a blush pinking his cheeks as his eyes skittered along the man’s right shoulder, unable to meet those eyes that seemed to pierce through him like sharp needles.

“Yes,” he breathed, inwardly cursing his shaky voice as he tried not to wring his hands on his lap. “B—But most people call me _Newt_.”

Newt winced at the unnecessary admission. The Director wouldn’t give a damn about what he was called outside his job, and that was definitely not a good way to start a conversation with one’s boss.

Before Newt’s ruminations could go further, Director Graves gave a low hum, an unreadable look appearing in his dark, impassive pools as he observed him with intent, making the redhead blush all the more.

“Well, it seems that people call you many different names, since you’re already starting to make a rather… unmistakable impression on your colleagues.”

Newt felt his breath hitch at those cutting words, a sense of unease making his stomach churn. Before he could ask what the Director meant with this worrying statement, the man suddenly stood up from his chair and rounded the table with leisured strides, shiny oxford shoes clicking on the floor like an approaching threat, and then leaned against the edge of the desk, his posture nonchalant and exuding calm without losing an ounce of its intimidating trait.

The secretary, who had been following the man’s movements with growing restlessness, gulped audibly when his gaze settled on each little ripple of Graves’ defined muscles as the Director crossed his arms over his chest and tapped one index finger on his arm. 

With a sudden surge of aroused embarrassment, Newt felt his mouth water at the alluring sight, which only rendered him more flustered, desperately wishing for this meeting to end. He slowly started to doubt his capacity to maintain a semblance of composure the longer he stayed in the man’s unnerving presence. He was shocked at himself for already craving those tanned and broad hands to touch him – _grip_ him – and he wondered if maybe the effects of his stressful work-hours were starting to take a toll on his sanity.

Newt had the irresistible urge to loosen the knot of his tie, suddenly feeling out of breath, and stubbornly kept his gaze on the skyscrapers behind the grand panorama windows, his heart-beat quickening in an unhealthy rate when he heard the man’s deep voice say with an inaudible sigh, “I’ll go straight to the point, Mister Scamander.”

At that, Newt snapped his head back to meet Graves’ unyielding gaze in alarm, already dreading the next words.

“I’ve received a few complaints, coming mainly from the engineering department,” Director Graves started in a flat tone that yet simmered with an underlying tinge of irritation. “They tell that you’ve been quite uncooperative with them.”

The Director didn’t ask if the claims were true, instead, he cocked his head slightly to the side and watched Newt silently, as if waiting for the secretary to speak up.

A bit surprised by the unexpected pause, Newt pushed for umpteenth his glasses up his nose and scrambled in his head for an appropriate answer. The Director’s face was a severe, stoic mask, making it impossible for Newt to assume if Graves was planning to fire him or was actually interested in hearing his defense.

Deciding that he was not some bloody coward who was afraid to affirm himself, Newt gathered his courage and said in a quiet voice, “I’m aware of that, Mister Graves. But… with all due respect—”

The secretary drew in a deep breath before continuing in a firmer tone, “They impose demands on me that I can’t accomplish in such a limited time and are actually outside of my supposed job tasks. It’s not my intention to cause any kind of disagreements. If I work here, it is because I want this company to strive; and being at the receiving end of false accusations is the least of my priorities.”

Newt paused, partly expecting to be interrupted, but the Director remained silent and continued to watch him with those bottomless depths that hid so many things Newt immediately craved to unveil.

Feeling suddenly emboldened, he went on, “I don’t want to sound petty, sir. But the head-engineer doesn’t make it easy for me to do my job and refuses categorically to do his part, making it impossible for me to make a decent report. I apologize for creating unnecessary problems; but I haven’t come all this way to be treated like this. All I want is to do my job.”

Newt didn’t realize that the volume of his voice had risen a bit during his speech, and with a rushed “Sorry…” he ducked his head in order to hide his embarrassed blush, hoping that the Director wouldn’t comment on it.

Tense silence filled the room, until Graves finally gave a sigh that sounded tired, and Newt desperately tried not to stare when the man uncrossed his arms and put his hands into his trouser pockets, making the dark fabric pull taut over his crotch.

Newt gulped, feeling his mouth go dry. Fortunately, the Director didn’t seem to notice that the redness on his face had reached unhealthy levels of heat. If he did notice though, he didn’t show it, for which Newt was utterly grateful.

“That’s pretty forward,” Director Graves replied in a thoughtful hum, his eyes glinting with an indiscernible spark in the morning sun as they raked along Newt’s face. “You’re accusing our head-engineer of laziness and dissent. This could get you into trouble if you deal with his bad side.”

There was no hint of affront in Graves’ smooth tone, but it still made Newt feel defensive nonetheless, the first sparks of anger coiling in his stomach at this kind of injustice towards him.

“If he starts treating me with basic human decency, then I’ll respect him in return. It goes both ways,” Newt retorted tensely, mustering all his courage to look the Director dead in the eye.

The anxious part in him immediately recoiled at the direct eye-contact, afraid of sinking into those black pools and losing all capacity to think logically in the process. But he had to show that he wasn’t some toy to be played with, even if he had to get into a heated confrontation with his scary – but oh-so unfairly hot – boss.

Something seemed to shift behind the man’s steely eyes as he considered Newt’s words and crossed once again his arms over his chest, thick brows slightly arched.

“Of course… That’s what one would expect. The thing I want first and foremost is that my employees treat each other in a civilized manner.”

A bit bewildered by his boss’ admission, Newt perked up and watched the man with growing curiosity, his heart fluttering. But before he could ponder further on his behavior, Graves continued, “Actually, it’s not the first time that Abernathy causes discord among his ranks. He’s very competent, but self-absorbed and pretty whimsical.”

Newt snorted at that.

“Well, I’m impressed that his head hasn’t fallen off his neck yet. He’s so big-headed I fear that’s the only thing people can see.”

That earned him a sudden bark of laughter, a rich and gravelly sound that instantly made a shiver shoot up Newt’s spine, making his nerves tingle. Fluttering warmth bloomed in his chest as he saw the bewildering change in the Director’s face. All traces of cold impassiveness were gone, letting place to a soft crinkle of gleaming eyes, crowfeet appearing at the corners of those alluring depths, a heart-melting smile spreading across his handsome face, making him suddenly look warm and approachable. Less intimidating…

With a new kind of awe, Newt took in the flash of teeth as the man grinned at him, broad shoulders shaking as he tried to regain his breath.

“That’s… very perspicacious of you, Mister Scamander,” Graves huffed out in a chuckle and watched the redhead with an amused expression, making the warmth in Newt’s chest swell all the more. “I see now why Picquery chose you. You have a bright mind and a righteous soul; vivid and very perceptive. I can’t deny that I’m appreciative of your presence at Macusa.”

Feeling overwhelmed by the unexpected compliment, Newt could only blush, a bashful smile curling his lips as he watched the Director through the reddish strands of his fringe.

“Oh—u-uh, thank you, Mister Graves. I feel honored to work for your enterprise.”

Newt met Graves’ crinkling eyes, and upon seeing the soft smile on the man’s sun-kissed face, Newt felt the tension slowly trickle away from his limbs, making him feel more at ease in the man’s company.

He didn’t know how much time went by as he kept contemplating his boss, feeling drawn to him the more he let his eyes wander along his exquisite body and charming face.

The redhead nearly jumped when the Director spoke up with a chuckle, “I won’t keep you from your work for much longer. I’ll make sure to have a word with Abernathy, so he won’t bother you anymore. You’ve done a great job so far. I expect you to stay productive.”

Newt nodded, feeling grateful and still somewhat bewildered by the thoughtfulness of his employer. He was relieved that the threat of losing his job wasn’t there anymore. And now that he had Director Graves’ approval, he couldn’t help but feel the sudden urge to please the man and see again this dashing smile being directed at him.

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir,” Newt breathed and gave a shy smile, his heart making a jump when the man answered with a slight curl of his lips, the little crowfeet growing more pronounced.

“You’re dismissed,” he announced and pushed himself off the table, not waiting for Newt to answer as he walked back to his seat. “And while you’re at it, please make an appointment for me with the ambassador of Singapore. I’ve been dodging his calls for far too long.”

Newt couldn’t help but grin inwardly at the man’s disgruntled mutter and rose up from his seat, giving a timid nod.

“Will do,” he replied and headed for the door, not before sending Graves one last furtive look. His face instantly went beet-red when the man caught his gaze and raised one eyebrow.

“Something the matter?” he inquired, to which Newt shook his head jerkily, inwardly hitting himself for being so unsubtle.

“N-No, Mister Graves.”

With a slight bow of his head, Newt turned around and quickly left the room, closing the door behind himself with trembling fingers. He could swear he was feeling the weight of the man’s intense gaze on him, and this sensation sent a thrill through his spine he was sure he hadn’t felt before. 

Sighing shakily, Newt sagged against the cool surface of the door, his heart racing against his ribcage as if he had just run a marathon. A mix of relief, want, euphoria and bewilderment invaded him, making his body thrum like a diapason. He never would have imagined that the events would play out this way. Newt had always viewed himself as someone who would never fall for someone’s charm this quickly. Yet here he was, craving the attention of a man who was way out of his league; who was powerful, bright, and good-looking… and his boss. 

Newt could already hear the warning words of his brother floating in his head, making him bite his lip in a mix of shame and reluctance.

“ _Never ever think about forging a relationship of any kind with your boss, be it friendship or else. This will put your job in great danger, and you’ll be out before you can even say ‘spinach’._ ”

Well, now Newt could add this as _Rule number three_ on his list.

He was aware of the implications and repercussions it would have if he ever decided to approach the Director. He wasn’t dumb. He knew full well what risked happening in employer/employee relationships. And generally, it didn’t end well, the first factor of this rift being the status of each person in this un-equal dynamic.

Newt knew that he wouldn’t be so foolish as to put his own job and life at risk, but at least he was free to let his imagination run free with images of his alluring boss doing things to him that would make anyone blush in embarrassment.

With another sigh, Newt walked back to his office in a daze, not noticing the curious look on Tina’s face as he let himself fall in his seat and stared absently at his black computer screen without really seeing it, his mind still filled with dark, obsidian eyes, rippling muscles and wolfish smiles.

Tina watched his silence with growing concern, her expressive eyes widening slightly as she asked cautiously, “Newt, did everything go well?”

“Hmhm,” Newt mumbled, still somewhat dazed, and started his computer, a shade of pink spreading across his cheeks as he thought about the prospect of meeting Director Graves again, now that it was certain that his place at the Macusa Company was insured. There was something domineering and predator-like to the man’s demeanor, yet Newt had seen that Graves was also kind and warm-hearted, his whole face lighting up when he gave one of his bright smiles that made Newt’s knees buckle. It was unfair at how strongly someone like Graves could so overwhelmingly affect him.

“Does it mean ‘yes’ or ‘please, don’t talk to me, I’m scared’?” Tina prodded further, to which Newt’s flush grew a shade darker, his glasses sliding down his nose as he looked down at the keyboard, gnawing his lip.

“I’m fine, Tina. Mister Graves promised that he’d talk to the head-engineer. He won’t harass me anymore.”

Tina’s brows shot up at that, her lips parting slightly as she took in his words.

“O—Oh… That’s great.” The brunette gave a sheepish smile, a sigh of relief leaving her mouth as she watched Newt with something akin to wonder. “I honestly thought that the Director would reprimand you or something. I must admit that sometimes he scares me a little.”

Newt breathed out a chuckle and smiled reassuringly.

“You might be right… He does look intimidating, but he’s fair, genuine and actually easy to talk to.”

The redhead was on the verge of pointing out the Director’s sinfully attractive physique, but he managed to push the words back down his throat before he could make a fool of himself. Though, something must have shown on his face, given the way Tina looked at him with an odd expression, eyes wide.

“What?” Newt asked with a sense of worry, to which Tina just shook her head.

“Nothing. There’s just something in your eyes... One might think that Mister Graves has left quite the impression on you.”

Newt let out an awkward laugh, unsure whether he should feel irritated or unsettled by the fact that he was so easy to read.

“Well, his imposing presence isn’t that easy to ignore, don’t you think?” Newt grumbled, which earned him a light chuckle from the brunette.

Tina sent him a conciliatory smile as she turned her attention back to her computer screen and said, “I was just teasing you, Newt.” She typed a few words with the practiced agility of someone who had spent years writing reports before adding with a contented hum, “Anyway, I’m glad that everything turns out well for you. You seem to have passed the test with the Director. Well done.”

Her last words ended in a teasing smirk, making Newt huff out a snort, unable to be mad at her.

“Thanks, Teen’.”

\---

The next days passed by quick and smoothly, although Newt had the impression that the amount of paper work had increased tenfold, making it impossible for him to even take a little lunch break.

Tina looked as exhausted and stressed out as him, which consoled him a bit in the thought that he wasn’t alone in this misery. Though, he would never wish for his colleague to feel pressured by the numerous assignments that kept piling up on their desks.

Newt was quite amazed that he hadn’t thought very much about Director Graves, which actually shouldn’t be that surprising, given the fact that it was impossible to daydream for a minute when countless reports needed to be finished and sent to the higher-ups. Alone the thought of deceiving Picquery and Graves made Newt’s stomach twist, and he quickly went back to his work the moment he felt that his mind was starting to go adrift, floating towards a certain dark-haired man.

The redhead started to cherish more and more the little breaks and calm moments he could get at exceptional instants when he had just finished a report or a particularly nerve-wracking phone call. 

He and Tina would sit together in the lounge room with their tablets propped on their laps, looking at funny blog posts and videos while chattering about their lives outside of Macusa. Or sometimes, when they were too tired to even talk, they would take a nap on the cushioned sofas, dozing off for half-an-hour before going back to their work stations.

Today was one of those days.

Tina was lying face-down on the couch, muffled snores vibrating through the cushion on which her face was pressed up, while Newt was sitting next to her, leisurely scrolling through random a.s.m.r. videos that could maybe help him relax.

When he found nothing that caught his interest, he put his tabled aside with a sigh, already feeling bored as he let his gaze wander about the room. He could just lie down and follow Tina’s example in order to be more productive for the next upcoming work hours. But he didn’t feel particularly tired, and his mind was too wired up and preoccupied with jumbling thoughts that left him restless and slightly on edge.

As his gaze settled on the skyscrapers glinting in the light of the afternoon sun, his thoughts instantly went to Director Graves, his chest filling again with this strange kind of warmth that made his fingertips tingle whenever the man’s handsome face appeared before his inner eye.

He wondered what Graves was doing at the moment. Surely he was attending some important meeting with other business people, planning new projects that would help leveling up the security of the country. 

Newt had seen him on different occasions after their first meeting, although it had always been very furtive, never giving him the opportunity to say a quick ‘hello’. Once, they had passed each other in the hallway, the secretary instantly going bright red when Graves turned his head to smile at him and give a curt nod before heading to his office, talking into his phone while holding a heavy looking briefcase in his other hand. He was always so busy, rushing from one meeting to the other. But he never seemed to lose an ounce of his calm and self-assured energy, always looking sleek and impeccable with his crisp suit and slicked-back hair.

Newt found that he could observe him all day, if only the Director would show himself more… The redhead knew that he should actually consider himself happy to be acknowledged whenever they met each other in the hallway while going to their respective work place. Yet, a little selfish part in him wanted to see more of the man; wanted to know what Director Graves looked like in casual clothes, what were his hobbies, if he had children…

With a mind of their own, Newt’s hands grabbed for his tablet and started to type the Director’s name in the search bar, trembling slightly as they touched the screen and pressed ‘enter’.

Newt felt his heart beat in his throat, his breath hitching when the screen was instantly flooded with photos depicting Director Graves, each one as alluring as the other. Newt didn’t know which webpage he should tap first, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount of Graves clones that looked up at him with dark, hooded eyes, inviting him to come hither.

Feeling suddenly like a creepy stalker, Newt gulped and slowly started to scroll through the unsettlingly high amount of pages, until he found one that made him nearly choke on his own breath, eyes growing wide as he stared at the page that was presented to him.

On a magazine cover that seemed to be one of the male-fashion genre was Director Graves, leaning casually against a wall and looking straight at the camera with furrowed brows, eyes half-lidded and filled with the promise of heated nights or sweet punishment. He wore a royal-blue suit with matching silver cufflinks and a teal-colored necktie that hung loosely around his neck. What made Newt’s cheeks grow hot was the trail of salt-and-pepper chest hair that was peeking between the folds of the man’s shirt. He looked elegant and regal, yet there was a certain sex appeal to him which was impossible to ignore.

Before Newt could restrain himself, he tapped on the link that led him to an article about Director Graves. Newt’s gaze was instantly drawn to the text and he started reading with a strong avidity which he never thought he’d possess.

_\--….Percival Graves, CEO of the reputed Macusa Company, was so kind to grant us the honor to interview him for this week’s fashion theme: ‘Look classy in suit and tie’. But first, the introductions…._

_\--….Mister Graves, you’re known for supporting fair trade and financing the construction of new schools for children in need. We have also been told that you’ve equipped those schools with the newest prototypes your company has recently released. Why’s that?_

_Graves: It may perhaps sound cliché what I’m going to say, but… children are our future. Giving them the protection they need is the least I can do. Of course, cameras won’t reduce violence that goes rampant in certain regions…(…)… What is most important is to invest in education, because that’s the only way for our society to become a more tolerant…._

Newt was pulled out of his reading when the squeaking sound of a trolley chimed in the hallway, growing louder as it came near the lounge room. He perked up as a young man with a long, dark ponytail stepped into the room, pushing the trolley ahead of him and waving at Newt with a bright grin.

“Hey, Newt. Want something to drink?” he asked, and without waiting an answer, he reached for a thermos filled with steaming Darjeeling tea and promptly filled a cup with the fragrant liquid before handing it to Newt.

“Hi, Credence,” Newt greeted with a smile and whispered a hushed “Thank you.” as he cradled the cup in his hands, closing his eyes as he inhaled the soothing scent. 

“Still busy today, huh?” Credence asked with one corner of his mouth pulled up in a crooked smile, soft hazel eyes glinting with sympathy.

The redhead nodded with a sigh, smiling wryly as he sent at his snoring colleague a fond look.

“Yes… I can’t wait for this day to end. I’m exhausted.”

“You busybodies are truly something else. That’s the reason why I don’t want to work in an office,” the young man laughed with a shake of his head while searching in the trolley’s compartments for a snack.

Newt hummed in reply, remembering the first day he and Credence had met. Credence was a music student who strived to become one day a famous pianist. He told that he had been searching for a short but well-paid job that should help him pay back his more-than-expensive student loan; and it was by complete coincidence that the company had replied to his call and hired him later on as a server at the main cafeteria.

Sometimes Credence would come up to Newt’s work place and treat him and Tina with delicious appetizers. It was especially the young man’s sweet and humorous personality that made them instantly grow attached to him, and they always waited for the tell-tale squeak of his trolley rolling down the hallway with great impatience.

The floating smell of tea and coffee seemed to have stirred Tina awake as she grumbled into the cushion and lifted her head with a yawn, blinking blearily as Credence offered her a teasing grin.

“Rise and shine, princess,” Credence chirped, to which Tina rolled her eyes.

“Hey, Cree,” she huffed, nodding her thanks as Credence placed a mug filled with her favorite coffee in her extended hand. “What’s new?”

Credence shrugged and tucked one luscious strand back behind his ear.

“Not much. The usual. I’m still practicing my music scores, since midterms will start in a week and—”

Newt and Tina flinched when Credence suddenly let out a loud “Ooohhh!” and pointed at the tablet Newt had put aside on the couch, eyes going wide.

“Isn’t that Director Graves?” he squealed in excitement and grabbed the tablet, ignoring the redhead’s sputtered protest as he scrolled happily through the webpage which Newt had inadvertedly forgotten to exit. 

Newt was certain he felt his heart stop when Credence arrived at the dreaded magazine cover and let out a low whistle, eyebrows shooting up.

“Damn, I didn’t know Graves was _this_ famous. Were you trying to find some sexy images? Naughty.”

At those words, Newt felt his face flood with heat, embarrassment making his ears burn as he muttered lamely, “Of course not. I— I was just curious about his past, that’s all.”

Credence gave him an unimpressed look, a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he tapped one finger on the photo.

“Really? Since when is someone interested in their boss’s life if it isn’t with the intention to bang him?”

“Credence!” Tina stared at him with an indignant expression, clearly not expecting the innocent looking man to be so forward. “What kind of nonsense are you babbling? Newt isn’t interested in our chief!”

Newt coughed, feeling suddenly like he might faint, and tried to look anywhere else than at his friend, who sent him an incredulous look, her face going pale as realization dawned on her.

“Oh my god. You _are_ attracted to him,” Tina gasped, making the redhead squirm on his seat, his face growing hotter by each passing second.

“Maybe a little… But what does it matter?” Newt muttered in exasperation, slightly irritated and mortified at the fact that now everyone was going to know that he was pining after his boss. “It’s not like I’m going to barge into his office and say ‘hey I find you hot, would you please ravish me?’”

Tina choked, eyes going wide as saucers, while Credence burst into laughter and gave Newt an impressed look, shoulders shaking under hiccupping giggles.

“Why the hell not? Everyone fucks their boss nowadays. Heck, if my professor looked like him, I wouldn’t think twice.” Credence glanced back at the magazine cover, pursing his lips with a satisfied glint in his eyes as he tapped on various other images depicting the Director’s face. “It wouldn’t surprise me if your boss had an account on sugar-daddies-deluxe dot com.”

“Sugar da— _what_?!”

Tina looked like she was on the verge of falling into hysteria, a high-pitched sound coming out of her mouth as she stared at Credence in shock.

“What kind of sites are you even visiting? No— no. Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.”

Credence bit his lip and batted his eyelashes in feigned innocence when Tina sent him one of her death-glares in retaliation. Then, she turned her attention back to Newt and gripped his hand, a pleading look settling over her face.

“Newt. I don’t want to sound patronizing. It’s not my intention… Just please, don’t do anything stupid.”

Newt sighed, gradually feeling tired and fed up with the whole conversation.

“I’m not dumb, Tina. Whether I feel attracted to my boss or not, it’s my own business. Could we please talk about something else now? I think I’ve ridiculed myself enough.”

Before Tina could answer to that, Credence chimed in, “If it can console you, Newt, Tina has a secret crush on Picquery. But she wouldn’t admit that.”

Newt blinked, baffled by the sudden revelation. With raised brows, he turned to look at Tina who was sitting as still as a statue, as if struck, her brown eyes going dangerously narrow as she fixed Credence with an angry look.

“You… I’m going to kill you, Credence,” she hissed, making Credence squeak in surprise as she rose from her seat, putting her mug on the trolley with a menacing ‘clank’.

“You have to catch me first,” the young man replied with a nervous laugh that quickly morphed into a yelp when Tina dashed towards him and tackled him, sending them both tumbling on the floor.

Newt could only chuckle in amusement as he watched their bickering, relieved that the attention wasn’t focused on him anymore. He reached out for his tablet and tapped again on the magazine cover, smiling shyly to himself as he took in the Director’s piercing charcoal eyes that looked up at him like they knew his deepest secret.

The secretary was aware that it was very unlikely for him to even imagine approaching Director Graves. But at least Newt could admire him from afar, even if it might end up being pointless in the long run.

\---

The following day, Newt spotted the Director standing by his office door in the hallway, as always with his phone pressed to his ear, deep voice chatting along as he leisurely walked about the place, his other hand tucked in his pocket, giving him an air of confident nonchalance.

Newt’s heart made a jump when the man acknowledged him again with one of his usual faint smiles. This time, it was followed by a little wink that left Newt breathless, and he quickly ducked his head, staring at his papers as a deep blush flooded his cheeks. He knew that it was just a mere sign of saying ‘good morning’, yet it still made his heart flutter with hopeful wings.

Before he could answer with a timid smile of his own, the Director had already turned on his heel, strolling the way back to his office as he talked in a vehement tone into his phone. 

Newt felt his heart sink as he watched the man’s retreating back. He barely had time to feel disappointed at Graves’ too early departure when the elevator binged and Credence waltzed into the hallway, the trolley squeaking annoyingly loud as he pushed it towards the Director while humming a Dvořák partition. Just as Graves ended his phone call and pushed the device into his pocket, the student stopped right in front of him and offered the Director a beaming smile.

“Wanna drink something, Mister Graves?”

The Director arched one thick eyebrow at the younger man’s vivacious demeanor, though, his lips quirked up at the corners as he said, “Good morning. One coffee, please.”

“How’d you like it?” Credence asked, fully adorning his professional server persona as he swiftly pulled a mug from a compartment and started to set the thermos flasks ready.

“Black. Like my soul.”

His response was so unexpected that Newt had to hide his face behind his computer screen and press a hand to his mouth as a startled giggle slipped past his lips. Fortunately, Credence’s laugh was much more boisterous, echoing off the walls as he rubbed his teary eyes.

“Not bad, Mister Graves. But I know you can do better.”

“What score would you give?” the Director asked, his dark eyes gleaming with mirth as he took the offered mug from Credence’s hand.

“A five out of ten. Not more.”

“Well, that’s harsh,” Graves grumbled in feigned offence, brows furrowing. But his eyes were still smiling, and Newt instantly wished that he was the one joking and bantering with his boss, feeling slightly envious of Credence’s straightforwardness and effortless ability to make easy small talk.

He knew that if Credence could talk so openly with Director Graves it was mainly because Graves wasn’t exactly his boss. Credence worked at the cafeteria, which gave him enough liberty to chat people up without risking anything in particular. It still felt strange to see him completely unaffected by the Director’s imposing aura, babbling along as he gave Graves a plate with donuts and a pack of crackers.

As Newt watched Director Graves tilting his head in thanks before going back into his office, he couldn’t help but feel all the more drawn to the man. Not only was he charismatic, fair and supportive, but his personality also didn’t lack of dry humor.

Newt felt his breath hitch when a strange, warm sensation swelled in his chest, threatening to burst as his eyes remained glued to the Director’s closed door.

With a sudden sense of dizziness, the secretary quickly pulled his gaze back towards his screen, biting his lip as he willed his mind to think about something else.

He blushed when he felt Tina sending him knowing looks and shaking her head in fond exasperation.

His heart nearly constricted when the imaginary list appeared once again before his eyes, pages flapping energetically as if scolding him.

_Rule number four_ : don’t fall in love with your boss.

\---

After three more particularly exhausting weeks, the day finally came were the work amount lessened a bit, now that most reports were finished and sent. Except for scheduling appointments, taking phone calls and planning out meetings, everything was pretty calm; and both secretaries were more than happy to get their highly deserved break.

Imagine Newt’s surprise when Mrs. Picquery appeared out of nowhere, looking slightly frazzled and in a hurry, and settled a pack of documents on his desk, asking him with a rushed voice to sort them out and schedule a quick planning for some leading researchers in the tech branch. Before Newt could even blink, Picquery was already dashing out of the office, her blond hair fluttering behind her back as she headed for the lift.

Newt didn’t know whether he should cry or laugh at his pitiful fate.

It didn’t help that Tina looked at him with a mix of sympathy and a tinge of guilt, given that this afternoon she could go home early and have a chill weekend with her sister Queenie at some calm forested place where they would be doing an excursion.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay longer?” she asked with knitted brows, wringing her hands, to which Newt shook his head and gave a tired smile.

“It’s alright, Teen’. Go have some fun, you deserve it. And don’t look at me like that.”

He elbowed her playfully and pushed her out of the office, making Tina giggle sheepishly, the worried look slowly dissipating from her strained features.

“Okay, I’m going,” she huffed and turned to give Newt a tight hug, her strong arms squashing his willowy body against hers. “But please, don’t overwork yourself too much. And eat more, alright? I won’t be here to remind you it’s unhealthy to skip meals like that.”

Newt blushed, a bit ashamed that Tina had noticed his tendency to forget his meals whenever he was too focused on his work.

He hugged her back, mumbling, “Promise. Now go, before I call Credence to chase you off.”

“Please no,” Tina grimaced with a laugh.

They exchanged another hug before Tina left, leaving Newt alone in the office, his smile slowly fading on his face as he turned back to his desk.

He stared for a moment at his paperwork as if it they would suddenly come to life and sort themselves out without further ado. Unfortunately, he wasn’t living in a fantasy world, and if he didn’t start now, he feared that he would be obliged to stay in the office until dawn. Picquery seemed to be adamant that this had to be finished as soon as possible, and Newt didn’t want to attract more issues.

Groaning loudly, Newt sat down before his desk and reflexively pushed his glasses back up his nose, brows already furrowing in concentration as he pulled the first set of documents towards him.

This was going to be a long night.

\---

The sky had already turned pitch-black, the only source of light being the neon lights of the bustling city below and the illuminated windows of the surrounding skyscrapers.

Newt would have admired the breathtaking view if he wasn’t still knee deep in his paperwork, taking notes and typing on his keyboard with swift fingers while taking a sip from a cup of tea which Credence had brought up to him at some point. The beverage was already cold and tasted like gravel, but right now Newt had to settle for it, unless his body would become all dehydrated. And he didn’t want to risk fainting while he was in the middle of writing an important paper.

The office had become eerily quiet since everyone had left. 

The only source of sound was the occasional gurgling of a water dispenser and the soft buzzing of one of the flickering lamps in the hallway. 

Newt was used to being alone. He lived alone in his cozy apartment near Central Park, although he had the company of his grey parrot _Pickett_ and his two cats _Belle_ and _Dougal_. But here in the Macusa Company – sitting in an overlarge room with overlarge windows – Newt couldn’t help but feel a bit unsettled. He felt small and abandoned, and the overall cold and deserted impression the office was giving off didn’t really help to quell his growing unease.

The redhead swallowed and quickly turned back to his task. If he wanted to leave this place, he had to finish this now.

He was so focused on the document before him that he didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching the office room, and he nearly yelped, his heart thudding into his throat, when a dark figure suddenly appeared at the entrance. It was only when the stranger stepped into the glowing light of one of the computer screens that Newt let out a stuttering breath of relief, heat rising to his cheeks when he recognized Director Graves standing right in front of his desk, his dark eyes reflecting the machine’s pale-blue flicker like a hunting feline in the dark.

“Mister Graves…”

Newt rose from his seat and fumbled with the collar of his shirt, smiling meekly when the man looked at him with a slight furrow of brows, lips pressed into a thin unhappy line.

“Mister Scamander. What are you doing here at this hour? Everyone has long left by now,” he said with a scowl, making Newt gnaw sheepishly on his lower lip, eyes going downcast.

“I— I was sorting through some documents Madam Picquery gave to me… She wants me to make a planning for tech branch too.”

Director Graves gave an inquisitive hum, a pensive look passing through his eyes as he glanced at the scattered papers on Newt’s desk.

“And it can’t wait until next week?”

Newt shook his head.

“I don’t think so. She was in a hurry and this matter seems rather urgent. It’s due for tomorrow.”

Graves huffed at that, and Newt had to restrain himself from gawking as the man passed a hand through his perfectly combed hair, a few dark strands falling out of their shape.

“Damn Seraphina,” Graves muttered under his breath and casted Newt another long glance before he finally said with a sigh, “Look. This task isn’t as important as you might think. I’m sure Picquery can wait a little longer. Sometimes she forgets that her employees also need some rest. You’ve gone far beyond your usual work hours.”

The redhead looked up in surprise, feeling confused yet touched by his boss’s thoughtfulness.

“I don’t know if I can just… leave this unfinished,” Newt mumbled unconvincingly and ducked his head, hiding his reddened cheeks behind his fringe when Graves let out a soft chuckle.

“Don’t worry about that. You won’t get any work done if you continue depriving yourself from sleep. Why don’t you go get some rest, hm?”

Upon seeing the expectant look in Graves’ depths, Newt felt his heart flutter, a shy smile tugging at his lips as their eyes met.

“Maybe I do need a break,” he admitted sheepishly and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. “I can’t deny that I’m feeling quite groggy.”

“Wise decision,” Graves hummed approvingly and tilted his head, gesturing at the entrance. “Now, off you go. You can come back tomorrow if you want to finish this early.”

Knowing that he couldn’t resist Director Graves’ order – not that he wanted to – Newt turned off his computer and reached for his briefcase before following Graves out of the office room. While they walked in companionable silence towards the elevators, Newt sent him furtive glances, once again feeling pleasantly surprised by the man’s kind attentiveness.

Surely his boss was just being worried about his productiveness. Like any employer, he wanted his employees to be efficient and healthy so they could keep the giant, never-tiring machine running. Though, a naïve part in Newt’s core wanted to believe that there was more than just professional concern to the man’s behavior; that Graves was genuinely hoping for Newt to feel better and be happy.

It was a foolish thought, but Newt couldn’t just suppress the growing attraction he felt for Graves like pushing the ‘delete’ button on a computer. It was too late.

As if sensing the conflict in his heart, Graves placed a broad hand on the small of Newt’s back, eyebrows creasing slightly as he gave the secretary a questioning look.

“Everything fine, Mister Scamander?”

Newt gave a quick jerk of his head, unable to say a single word as all his attention was zeroed in on the sensation of Graves’ hand on his back. It felt warm and solid, its weight anchoring him, yet also leaving him dizzy and flustered. It was as though his skin was tingling with all kinds of sensations alone by that single touch, and already he craved for more. 

He wanted to feel those big, graceful hands on his naked skin; wanted to feel them roam along his shivering body; wanted to arch into their probing touch, taste them with his tongue…

Newt felt an all too familiar heat rise to his cheeks and going south, making his loins suddenly turn ablaze. He had to bite back a sigh of relief when they finally arrived at the elevator and Graves’ hand slipped off his back, leaving him bereft and reeling on the spot.

“I expect you to come back fully rested, Mister Scamander,” the Director insisted, voice firm yet laced with warmth as he pushed the button and the elevator doors slid open, prompting Newt to walk in.

When Graves made no move to follow him inside, Newt turned towards him and asked timidly, “You… Aren’t you finished with work too?”

Seemingly surprised by Newt’s inquiry, the Director arched his brows, tucking both hands into the pockets of his slacks as he watched his secretary with an unreadable glint in his eyes. 

After a long pause he finally said, “Sometimes I have to work on very late hours, also on weekends, which doesn’t leave me time for anything else. Unfortunately.”

Newt wasn’t sure, but he believed he perceived a hint of weariness and something else beneath the man’s measured tone. It was as though he had revealed a private, personal part of himself, sharing it with him. Newt realized that Graves wasn’t just a man who was only summarized to his powerful and vivacious leadership. Graves was a man who had many responsibilities weighing on his shoulders; someone who could have a life outside of Macusa yet was resigned to remain linked to the company, working nearly twenty-four hours each day in order to keep it running, to the point of forgetting his own needs.

Perhaps there used to be someone waiting for him at home, hoping that he would come back to them...

The Director seemed to be the kind of person who lived alone, like Newt. But it was a different kind of loneliness. A cold and bitter state he had been obliged to chose, otherwise he’d hurt someone in his constant absence.

Perhaps Newt was reading too much into this. But he felt touched nonetheless by his boss’s honesty.

“I understand,” he breathed, smiling softly as he looked up to meet the Director’s eyes. “I hope though that you’ll get the chance to have a break sometime, Mister Graves.”

Graves answered with a faint smile, piercing eyes clouded again with that guarded, unreadable look.

“Goodnight, Mister Scamander.”

The elevator doors slid shut before Newt could respond, and he was left alone again, wondering if the Director would stay the whole night in his office until dawn, working to the ominous sound of the flickering neon lamp.

As Newt observed the countdown of the gleaming floor numbers on the elevator display, a thought had already formed in his head, making him nervous yet eager with anticipation.

Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant that nobody would be present at his floor except for Director Graves. The secretary might as well keep him company and continue working on his reports. 

He knew that this was probably a not so good idea, but it wasn’t as if Newt would actually consider making advances towards his boss. He wasn’t that suicidal.

Or maybe he was.

\---

“Mister Scamander. Good evening.”

Newt could literally feel his heart swell at full force and burst upon seeing the luminous smile on Graves’ face, all directed at him. The Director was leaning against the doorframe of Newt’s office room, looking as impeccable as ever in his prussian-blue suit and matching striped tie, despite the presence of dark circles under his crinkling eyes that gave away the tired state he was in.

Trying to ignore the twinge of worry at the sight, Newt answered with a smile of his own, pushing again on his glasses, a nervous tick he definitely should start to get rid of.

“Good evening, Mister Graves. How was work?”

The Director chuckled with a snort.

“Boring at best. But at least I could get the most important cases done.”

“A-Ah, I’m glad for you,” Newt said bashfully, and Graves’ eyes softened a fraction as they settled on Newt’s reddened cheeks, making the secretary squirm on his seat.

Today, Newt had arrived at work a bit later than planned. The pent up exhaustion that had kept crushing his limbs had finally taken a toll on him, and he had slept profoundly the whole night, going past his usual waking hours. Now he felt refreshed and less tired, and he was ready to finish his reports once and for all, now that he had a clearer mind.

He was glad to have taken Graves’ advice to heart.

As predicted, Director Graves was the only person who was present at the office, head buried deep in his paper work, not noticing the secretary walking past his room. It was only when the last rays of the sunset had disappeared behind the buildings that Graves had stepped into Newt’s work place in order to check if everything was running smoothly.

Newt was equally flattered and surprised by his boss’s attention, and he couldn’t deny that having the man looking at him with that charming smile of his infused him with a sensation of timid hope and something else that made his chest fill with warmth.

“Did you make some progress with Picquery’s requested documents?” the Director asked, pulling Newt back to the present.

“Um, y—yes, quite a bit.” Newt fiddled sheepishly with a sheet of paper, not daring to look his boss in the eye as he inwardly debated if he should be honest with him or not. “Though, uh, there is just one thing concerning the schedule planning for the lead techs… I’m a bit stuck on this one. I’m not sure anymore who has the most prominent role among them.”

Graves huffed out a chuckle at that and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ah, that’s pretty simple. There. I can just show you and you’ll be done with it in no time.”

To Newt’s utter bafflement, Graves rounded his desk until he was standing behind him and bent forward, leaning unsettlingly close as he pointed a finger on the schedule chart depicted on the screen.

“You see Mister Howard here; he’s the one who makes the most decisions. You can put your focus more on him, since the other lead techs tend to rely on him most of the time…”

As the older man went on, Newt tried to gather all of his willpower to pay attention to his words, but it was quickly scattered as his senses were invaded by the close proximity of Graves’ upper body hovering above his shoulder. Newt could smell the discreet yet alluring scent of Graves’ cologne, which made the sudden ardent urge to press his back against that strong body impossible to ignore.

Newt felt his heart rate speeding up, his face instantly flooding with heat as that gravelly voice spoke close to his ear, sending jolts of electricity through his limbs, making them tremble with want. He had to open his mouth in order to take deep breaths. His body felt too hot, and he wanted nothing more than pull those constricting clothes off.

Graves suddenly went silent, an odd expression crossing his face as he stared down at the redhead, wide-eyed, and it was only then that Newt noticed to his utter mortification that he was gripping the Director’s arm, fingers digging into the muscled flesh beneath the suit. It seemed that in his dazed state he had confounded Graves’ extended arm with the armrest of his seat.

“O—Oh…”

Newt released the man’s limb as if burned; shame, horror and guilt crashing over him as he blinked at his shaking hands, vision going blurry. What had he done? The man was surely thinking that he had lost his mind for daring to touch him in such an inappropriate way.

At first he didn’t feel the press of a solid hand on his back, and it was when he heard the Director say something through the ringing in his ears that he startled out of his shocked state, cheeks blazing with heat when he met Graves’ concerned look.

“Mister Scamander. I need you to breathe,” the Director said severely, his forehead creasing as he watched Newt through piercing, searching eyes. 

Newt wanted to kiss him so badly.

Given the look of shock and confusion on the man’s face, Newt seemed to have said it out loud. Wonderful. The redhead groaned in misery and pressed both hands to his face, desperately wishing to be swallowed by a hole, right here and now.

He flinched and let out an embarrassing yelp when all of a sudden a pair of broad hands grabbed his wrists and yanked them off his face, pressing them against each armrest, close to his trembling body. They enclosed his delicate bones like branding straps, and his whole body went rigid with thrumming anticipation when he met the Director’s smouldering gaze. His breath caught in his throat upon seeing the unexpected heat in those gleaming depths, making him shiver in delight. Those eyes that always looked so composed and calm were suddenly burning into him like blazing coals, fixing him with such intensity that it rendered him completely speechless.

Newt was certain he felt his loins curl with overwhelming arousal when the man said in a rumbling voice, “You little minx. You present yourself in front of me like that, and now you’re acting coy?”

Newt’s eyes widened and his breath stuck in his throat.

“W-What? I didn’t—” 

He squeaked just as Graves grabbed his seat and spun it around so that now he was facing him completely, unable to do anything else than be at the Director’s utter mercy as he was crowded against his desk. The man’s eyes were gleaming hot and predatory, raking along Newt’s reclining form with intent. It made Newt’s skin burn and tingle with want, as if Graves was already exploring his body just with his prodding gaze alone.

Everything in him was buzzing with excitement and confusion, a part of him still wondering if this was really happening; if it wasn’t his too vivid imagination that was playing games with him. Yet Director Graves was there, looking at him like he was a delectable treat served on his plate, ready to be eaten. And god, did he want to be ravished.

His breath hitched when Graves leaned forward and placed both hands on the desk, at either side of Newt’s body, preventing any chance of escape.

Newt had to swallow back a whimper as the man’s hot breath tickled his ear, quirking lips nearly brushing along his oversensitive skin as Director Graves whispered in a growl, “You think I haven’t noticed you watching me? You thought you were being subtle, didn’t you?”

Newt could only make a tiny miserable sound at those words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shock at the thought of being caught so easily. The fact that his boss had been aware of his attraction all along made him want to disappear in shame yet also slide down on his knees and beg the man to have his way with him. At this moment everything was escalating, but Newt couldn’t care less.

“I—I…”

The redhead’s words came to a stutter when Graves shushed him gently and pulled his head back so their eyes could meet. Newt was sure his heart was skipping several beats as he looked into those dark depths that watched him with unhidden desire and tenderness, making his toes curl.

“What do you want?” Graves rumbled in his low voice, and Newt couldn’t hold it any longer.

He tentatively placed his hands on the man’s shoulders, marveling at their sturdy shape, and under a sudden surge of bravery he pulled Graves down, capturing those inviting lips with his own. Newt gasped into the kiss, a spark of blazing lust ricocheting through his body as Graves’ hot mouth slid over his, hungry and rough.

In countless wet dreams Newt had imagined himself being kissed and explored by his boss, but nothing could prepare him to the heated onslaught the man was bringing upon him. Graves nipped and licked at his already swollen lips, humming appreciatively as Newt responded with equal eagerness, his glasses nearly tipping off his nose as their kiss deepened by each passing second.

It was slow, sensual yet utterly erotic at once, and it made Newt mewl with ever-growing desire. The way Director Graves’s tongue slid in a reverent caress along his own made electricity spark along his skin by each little drag of exploring lips, and he found himself gripping tightly at the man’s shoulders, wanting more.

He could feel Graves’ warm palms settle on his waist, pulling him up from his seat, and Newt eagerly followed, a delighted sigh escaping his mouth when he was pressed against the thick and strong body he had always dreamt of being allowed to caress. He felt the Director steer him slowly, but insistently down onto his back on the desk among his scattered papers, but his mind was registering it only vaguely.

He was completely lost in the overwhelmingly toe-curling kiss, shaking breaths puffing out of his open mouth when Graves’ hands slid up his torso, exploring fingers slipping under his shirt and caressing his bare, shivering skin with gentle strokes. 

The redhead made a disappointed sound despite himself when Graves pulled away, their lips parting with an obscene little smack that resounded in the room, making Newt’s entire face heat up in a deep blush.

“M-Mister Graves,” Newt stammered with uneven breaths, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked up shyly at the man before him, heart hammering in his chest.

“Oh, _darling_ ,” his boss rumbled in a raspy voice as he started to nip at Newt’s jaw and traveled down the elegant arch of his exposed neck. 

Newt felt his heart stutter at the sudden pet name, his belly filling with a new kind of curling warmth, and he buried one hand into the soft thickness of Graves’ hair, pressing the man’s face more firmly against his neck, mewling shamelessly at the sensation of that rough tongue trailing along smooth skin.

Graves made a low growl in his throat when Newt tugged slightly at his strands, his chest vibrating against the secretary’s shivering form as he whispered against his exposed neck, “Do you know what you’re doing to me? How much I’ve wanted you since the day you turned up in my office?”

Newt had to come down from the haze in his mind in order to process what his boss had just said. He started to tremble as he repeated those words inside his head again and again, unable to believe that this was actually true. It was nearly insane to think that Director Graves had been as affected by him, just like Newt was affected by his boss’s attractive appearance.

How was it possible that Newt could instill desire and longing in someone like the Director Graves?

“Don’t lie to me,” Newt whispered, suddenly feeling helpless and exposed. Vulnerable… 

Graves’ hold tightened on Newt’s waist as the man groaned against his neck, and he could literally feel those thick brows furrow in affront at his uttered words.

“Darling. If I didn’t want you, I wouldn’t be here, throwing all conventions and work ethics away just so I can touch you. Worship you.”

Newt trembled, his grip tightening around the man’s neck. It all seemed too good to be true. Yet here he was; willing to believe every spoken promise and sensual whisper that came out of Graves’ mouth. He never felt so tempted. He never felt so genuinely desired – _craved_ – by someone so handsome, kind and amazing like Director Graves, and he found himself wanting more of the man’s attention, basking in the dizzying feeling of those sinful lips on his skin.

With a new surge of bold desire, Newt tugged again on Graves’ hair, prompting the Director to look up at him, his breath hitching when his gaze met those dark eyes that fixed him with heated want and something else that made another whimper slip past his lips.

“Kiss me again,” he breathed and Graves obliged all too willingly, pleased hums reverberating through their chests as they met halfway in a searing kiss.

The kiss quickly became sloppier and uncoordinated but intense as the Director started to unbutton Newt’s shirt and pushed the fabric aside until it hung loosely around Newt’s arms, exposing his heaving chest to the man’s appreciative and lustful gaze.

Newt couldn’t help but blush furiously and let out breathy little moans as Graves dragged worshipful hands along his prominent ribs and down his twitching belly, leaving goose-bumps in their wake.

“Beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” the man whispered lowly, voice sounding raw and _hoarse_ , and Newt whimpered, his length twitching in his pants as he chewed on his lower lip and watched his Director through hooded, pleading eyes, body shaking under the slow drag of those calloused fingers.

“Mister Grav—ah!”

Newt threw his head back with a stuttering moan, nearly going cross-eyed when Graves suddenly pressed his thumbs against his nipples, circling the soft pink buds and rolling them tenderly between rough digits. He arched his spine off the desk, letting out a series of astounded mewls and gasps as his sensitive nipples were tweaked and stroked, rendering him completely pliant and light-headed. _Wanting_.

His mind was so focused on the overwhelming sensation of those skillful fingers on his hardened and swollen nubs, that he didn’t register his pants being pulled off along with his briefs, and as soon as the cool air hit his nude form, his eyes flew open, heart beating into his throat as he found himself completely exposed. Bare and soft and vulnerable.

Newt shivered at the way Graves’ pupils dilated when he looked down at him. He was suddenly aware of the fact that the Director was still fully dressed, his imposing and domineering aura only accentuated by the sharp contrast of Newt’s naked and prone form. The thought of being utterly at the man’s mercy sent a thrill up Newt’s spine, and it made him feel daring and brave in a strange way like he had never been.

Licking his lower lip, Newt parted his legs invitingly, letting out a soft moan as the man immediately slotted himself between the cradle of his twitching thighs. Graves answered Newt’s moan with a groan of his own, his taut and muscled body pressing against him like a beast ready to mate. Newt bit his lip, basking in the thrilling sensation that he seemed to affect his Director as much as the man affected him. It made him feel powerful and desired, and he was curious to see how much he could drive Director Graves crazy.

He spread his legs wider and gave a pleased hum as Graves’ broad hands ran along the soft inner side of his thighs, thumbs tracing little circles on his blushing skin. They purposefully bypassed his leaking length that lay erect on his belly, its cherry-red tip already glistening with liquid beads. Newt couldn’t help but make a frustrated sound when Graves trailed teasing fingers through his pubic hair and then back up his heaving chest, a wolfish grin spreading across his handsome face. That smug bastard.

“ _Please_ ,” Newt demanded breathlessly, face growing inexorably hot at the desperation in his tone, and he gasped when the Director surged forward and captured his lips in a fierce kiss. 

Newt instantly threw his arms around the man’s shoulders and bracketed his thighs against his flank, his twitching length rubbing sweetly against the smooth fabric of Graves’ ruffled shirt, sending jolts of electricity through his arching spine.

Graves groaned into the kiss at the sensation, making Newt smile in triumph. Before he could hook his legs further up his man’s waist in the hope to get more pressure on his need, Graves pulled back and pressed Newt’s hips against the desk, making soft cooing sounds when the redhead writhed at the loss, glowering up at the Director with a look of distress and indignation.

“Patience, darling,” Graves murmured with that self-contented smile, and Newt let out a huff which quickly morphed into a startled yelp when he suddenly felt a calloused thumb drag with feather-light movements along the sensitive rim of his hole.

If humans could combust, then Newt would have been already consumed by the heat blazing in his entire body. Feeling mortified, aroused and incredulous all at once, Newt could only moan and tremble with unleashed desire as his nerve-endings sparked under the sensation of Graves’ thumb rubbing his most intimate region, coaxing it to open up for him like a rosebud.

Newt stared up at the Director, his heart skipping a beat when their eyes locked. He felt pinned down by the look of awe and unhidden lust in those gleaming eyes, and it only made him crave the man all the more.

“Mister Graves…”

Newt let out a drawn-out whimper when he felt Graves’ finger easily slip inside, struck with sheepish pride at how greedily his muscle pulled the digit in. The Director seemed as surprised as him, given the way his brows shot up as he watched his finger slide all the way in with a blazing heat in his eyes, making Newt bite on his lower lip in sudden embarrassment.

“ _Fuck_. You’re eager, aren’t you, darling?” Graves rasped, sounding utterly wrecked, and Newt could only moan desperately in answer as he clamped around the sensual drag of Graves’ exploring digit.

Newt would never admit to his boss that he had pleasured himself this morning with a dildo he had purchased not long ago, which could be attached to any surface of the apartment. He had promptly tested it out in his bathroom, impaling himself enthusiastically on the long appendage to the thought of Graves rutting into him with rough snaps of hips.

He was pulled out of his lecherous thoughts when a second finger slipped alongside the first one that kept rubbing his inner walls with teasing strokes. As Graves started a slow, steady rhythm, knuckles stretching his rim taut at each little pull, Newt lolled his head to the side with a shudder, mouth going slack as he panted around his fist.

Graves made a tutting sound and leaned down, wrapping his other hand around Newt’s wrist and pulling it aside, kissing him gently on his parted lips as the redhead fluttered his lashes at him, bleary-eyed.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart. Let go,” Graves murmured, his voice honey-sweet as he sped up the movements of his fingers, making Newt writhe in pleasure as they dragged across his hidden bundle of nerves. “You’re so beautiful. I want to kiss every little freckle on your skin, would you let me?”

Newt nodded frantically, feeling delirious in the throes of his passion; in the sinful sound of Director Graves’ voice. His heart swelled with pride-tinted pleasure at those uttered words, and he found himself babbling incoherently as he rocked back onto those dexterous fingers that kept plundering him with sharp thrusts, claiming him.

“Y-Yes, oh god… _Please_ , I want you. _Oh_ , r—right there, uh-huh.”

Graves made a low, rumbling sound deep in his throat and nipped at Newt’s neck, making him cry out with a well-aimed jab against his sweet spot.

Newt felt so full, and he knew that he wouldn’t last longer, feeling his peak building up like a dam on the verge of cracking; overflowing. All his senses were focused on the man giving him pleasure and making him feel things that transformed him into a whining and demanding mess.

The press of Graves’ thick fingers on his swollen spot inside of him had him keening and arching off the desk, and his mind completely blanked out when the man pressed forward and latched his lips around Newt’s nipple, suckling at the soft nub with teasing nips. 

Newt felt as though he was falling over a cliff, his vision becoming blurry, and he came with a breathless cry, clinging desperately to Graves’ neck as his body twitched and shook uncontrollably, feeling himself clamp tightly around the dragging digits.

He mewled weakly when Graves slowly pulled out and circled his sensitive rim with a tender caress, soothing him and catching him from his dizzying fall. The man still suckled on his nipple, giving it gentle licks with his tongue, and Newt sighed happily, carding tentative fingers through the thick mop of his boss’s hair.

Newt felt like cotton, soft and weightless, and he didn’t protest when Graves enclosed his waist with strong arms and pulled him up, guiding him forwards as he sat down on the seat and coaxed Newt to sit on his lap. Following the Director’s lead, Newt nestled his weight on the man’s thighs and pressed himself along the hard length of his body, reveling in the sensation of soft clothes on his skin and comforting hands smoothing up and down his shivering back.

The redhead pressed his face against the crook of Graves’ neck and breathed in the musky smell of citrusy cologne mixed with sweat, his spine arching languidly like a cat as the man stroked the small of his back with little presses of calloused fingertips and trailed soft pecks on his curly head.

He tried to savor the addicting moment while it lasted, because he didn’t know if he would experience this again with Mister Graves. As the seconds ticked by, reality seeped back into his head, reminding him with a sharp, painful jab that Graves was still his boss, and it wouldn’t take long until Newt would be obliged to either leave his job or watch the man ignore him or treat him again with indifferent, professional distance like nothing ever happened between them.

Graves had been surely just searching for a little fun, taking advantage of the attraction Newt felt for him, and now the moment was coming were he’d thank the secretary for the night and leave him bereft and lost in the dark office. Naked and trembling.

Newt felt his fingers cramp around the girth of Graves’ shoulders, and he bit his lip, his mouth trembling as he braced himself for the inevitable rejection, the creeping claws of dread and humiliation tightening around his throat as his mind was suddenly invaded with images of his past disastrous experiences at his previous job.

Everyone had treated him with false kindness until they would eventually stab him in the back and watch with satisfied sneers how Newt fell into his demise, broken and humiliated.

His jumbling thoughts came to a stuttering halt when Graves pressed a kiss to his ear and whispered quietly, “Let me take you out to dinner tonight.”

Newt’s eyes widened, his heart skipping several beats as he processed what he just heard. He slowly pulled back and straightened up in Graves’ lap, watching him with a mix of disbelief and cautious hope.

Seemingly interpreting Newt’s silence with hesitation, Graves cleared his throat with a somewhat sheepish expression, which the redhead had never seen in him before, and added hastily, “If you want to, of course.”

Newt let out a soft “ _Oh_ ” at his boss’s proposal, unable to make a coherent sentence as his mind was still reeling with the prospect of him spending more time with his Director. He felt his chest swell with a dizzying warmth that made him suddenly feel elated and light-headed, and he found himself nodding enthusiastically, a timid grin spreading across his face as he met Graves’ dark, expressive eyes.

“Yes, yes. I—I’d love to, Mister Graves,” he said breathlessly, and his heart fluttered upon seeing the look of reverence, joy and relief shining in Graves’ eyes. His depths were watching him so rapturously, that it made Newt blush with contentment, and he trailed his fingers reverently along the man’s smooth jaw, smiling bashfully.

“I want to know you better…”

“My sweet darling,” Graves murmured, voice hoarse, making Newt shiver in delight at the pet name. “The feeling is mutual. Nothing would please me more than making further acquaintance with you.”

“We sh-shouldn’t be doing that,” Newt whispered half-heartedly while fiddling with Graves’ necktie, knowing deep down that he would still want to be with Graves despite the delicate situation they were both in. “People will talk…”

“Not if we keep our relationship outside our work,” Graves replied softly, a pained, uncertain look passing through his dark depths as he continued to stroke Newt’s back. “I… I don’t want you to feel pressured or obligated. I understand if this makes you uncomfortable. If you don’t want to be with me, I’ll respect that.”

Newt shook his head before his boss had even finished his sentence, feeling slightly affronted yet touched by the man’s thoughtfulness.

“I want to be with you, Mister Graves. Very much so.”

Under a sudden impulse, Newt leaned forward and captured Graves’ lips in a soft, languid kiss, a breathy moan bubbling in his throat when the man responded immediately with an enthusiastic nip on his still swollen lower lip, broad palms trailing in an ardent caress along his soft thighs and buttocks.

After a long delightful moment of both men basking in the feeling of being in each other’s embrace, their lips parted and Newt suddenly let out a little giggle as he pressed his forehead against Graves’, shoulders shaking.

Graves looked confused but amused by his secretary’s strange behavior, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing. It’s just—” Newt met Graves’ searching gaze with a sheepish snort, unable to restrain the little puffs of laughter as he carded his fingers through the short hair on the man’s neck. “I’m just happy…”

Graves answered with a soft chuckle and reached up to adjust the redhead’s glasses before giving the tip of Newt’s nose a small peck, making him blush. Newt hadn’t realized that his glasses had been lying askew on his nose the whole time.

“I’ve completely shredded the papers on my desk,” Newt blurted out suddenly, his nose crunching up as he glanced at Picquery’s crumbled documents.

That earned him a startled laugh, and Newt found himself once again lulled in the rich sound of his Director’s voice. Seeing his boss looking so carefree and relaxed made his skin tingle with pleasant warmth, and it filled him with a sense of euphoria, knowing that the man was happy because of him.

“That’s probably my fault,” Graves chuckled, not sounding remorseful at all, and he laughed harder when Newt sent him a pointed look, muttering, “’ _Probably_ ’, huh?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll fix this,” Director Graves said in a conciliatory tone, his eyes still glinting with mirth, and rubbed soothing circles along Newt’s hip bones, making him shiver and sigh. “I also think that what you’ve written today is sufficient enough. I’ve read your previous reports, and you’re very good. You’ve got talent as a writer.”

Newt ducked his head, feeling flattered, and smiled shyly.

“Thank you, Mister Graves. Hearing that always gives me so much hope…”

Graves lifted a brow at that.

“Hope?”

“I—I want to become a writer someday,” Newt elaborated, and his heart fluttered upon seeing the curious, admiring look in Graves’ eyes. “Writing has always been part of my life. I’m working on a book at the moment in my free time, but I know how difficult it is to get published… Until then, I continue on writing.”

Graves hummed, a pensive expression settling over his face as his palms kept trailing along Newt’s thighs. 

“That is true. It is pretty challenging. I find it admirable though that you continue living for your passion, despite the obstacles it causes.” He leant forward to press another languid kiss on Newt’s lips before continuing in a reverent tone, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look on your book, once it’s finished.”

“O—Oh… Of course, I don’t mind,” Newt stammered, elated and pleasantly surprised at hearing his boss’s soft-spoken words. “I’d be glad to know your opinion on it.”

Graves gave a heart-warming smile, his eyes looking up at him with open rapture, making Newt’s nerves thrum with giddy pleasure. With a happy sigh, he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and leaned in for a deep kiss, trying to convey how thankful and glad he was.

He let out a little moan when Graves’ hands tightened on his hips, making his spent manhood stir in interest as it rubbed against the rough fabric of Graves’ belt.

A new wave of arousal coursed through him the moment he felt a very distinct and prominent hardness press against his backside, and his face flooded with heat as he was hit with the mental image of him kneeling before Director Graves and giving him sweet pleasure with his tongue. The man had been so attentive and thorough in making Newt scream in ecstasy, and now, he wanted nothing more than see his boss completely undone before his eyes, groaning and breathing out sweet pet names, writhing under the sensual nips of Newt’s lips on his length.

“You don’t have to do this, darling,” Graves rasped, his breath hitching when Newt pressed his palm against the hardness beneath his slacks and started to give it teasing rubs. “I invited you to dinner.”

Newt chuckled, a timid sense of pride swelling in his chest upon hearing the strain in his boss’s tone. This was going to be interesting.

“What if I _want_ to?” he breathed, meeting Graves’ heated and positively wrecked gaze with a shy smile. “Dinner can wait, Mister Graves.”

He gave another teasing rub against Graves’ throbbing hardness, and the man _growled_ , pulling Newt down by his neck and crushing their lips together in a passionate kiss. 

Newt was left breathless, and he moaned shamelessly as Graves nipped at his bottom lip and rasped, “’ _Percival_ ’. From now on, you call me ‘Percival’.”

The redhead nodded jerkily and hummed in pleasure as their lips met again in a heated dance of tongues, hands roaming along each other’s bodies.

He saw the imaginary list floating before his inner eye, and he was more than happy to add another rule before he could finally surrender himself in the arms of his man, Percival.

_Rule number five_ : fuck rule number four.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated. <3
> 
> By the way, for those who are waiting for the second chapter of 'the orchid and the dragon', I'm still working on it. It just takes a while since the story got longer than predicted. So, I guess it will be at least 3 chapters. I do my best to write whenever I have free time outside of work. Thank you for reading! :D
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://sassy-percy-graves.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also huge thank you to [kallistob](http://thegaypumpingthroughyourveins.tumblr.com/) and [alia](http://auroargraves.tumblr.com/), because they encouraged me, and they're awesome <3


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